


the monster at the end of this story

by antithestral



Category: Supernatural, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Other, dora helps, eddie's a hunter, it's love at first possession!, or something very similar, venom's an eldritch being from the depths of tartarus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 08:12:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antithestral/pseuds/antithestral
Summary: People keep disappearing from the woods around Haim, CA.





	the monster at the end of this story

**Author's Note:**

> the working title for this fic was 'my, what big teeth you have' which says everything you really need to about it tbh.

_**Fitzburgh, CA  
** _ _**Sheriff's Office** _

"Hello, Agent. Young, was it? Jessica at the desk tells me you called in early this morning to say you were comin' in. Mighty thoughtful of you, I gotta say. The fellas who came through last week didn't bother with none o' that."

Eddie frowned at the back of the Sheriff's pale, bald scalp, following him into the main office in quiet, tense silence. "Last week?"

Sheriff Townsend squeezed into his enormous chair, behind a pockmarked mahogany desk. His office was typical of a small-town stationhouse - shag carpeting, fluorescent strip lighting, the pervasive stink of coffee, gym socks and cigarette smoke. Eddie felt right at home.

"Sure," Townsend nodded. "A couple of feds, like you. Came through, last week, asking about the hikers down in Bluebrush Valley. Told 'em the same thing I'm tellin' you, buddy. They didn't stop here, didn't stop nowhere in town, just had lunch and went on straight down Route 80." He slid over a thin, brown file, and Eddie picked it up, flipped it open. "You didn't know?"

"About the hikers?" Eddie asked distractedly.

"About the agents. What was their names... Plant and... _Shee-it._ It's on the tip of my tongue."

_Page._ Eddie felt a hot rock sink into his gut. Damn. He'd been planning to give those two idiots a call, see if they'd heard anything about anything.

"Page!" Townsend crowed, with a wide nicotine-stained grin. "That's it. Plant and Page. You ever run into those two?"

Eddie shrugged. "Must've been from a different office."

"Three suits for a missing persons case..." Townsend drummed his thick, meaty fingers on the desk. "Seems like a lot, don't it?"

Eddie smiled unpleasantly at the man. "Well, Sheriff, we figured someone ought to give a shot, after all the success y'all've had."

Townsend glared. "You little shit. You know we don't gotta help you or nothin'."

Eddie's smile turned into a leer, full of sharp teeth and uncomfortable promises. "You really do, Sheriff. Believe me, you really, really do. Now, you said they went straight down Route 80. Where'd they stop? You must've checked."

Townsend glared. His hand had curled into a fist on the table, the knuckles white and bloodless. He was breathing hard, and despite the low, constant whine of the air-conditioning in the room, the top of his head had started to gleam with sweat.

_Anger? Or fear?_

"Sure," the sheriff said finally, red creeping up his pasty white neck, bulging in heavy folds over the shirt collar, thick with unshaven scruff. "Sure, we checked. They stayed the night at the next town over, before heading off to Bluebrush."

Eddie waited. Nothing. _Definitely fear._ "This town got a name?"

"Haim."

"Alright. I'll give the sheriff a call. You two must know each other."

"Nothing happened in Haim, _Agent._ And if it did, there's already two agents pokin' around. What the hell you gotta go poke the hornet's nest for? Lay off. Just lay off."

That was... bizarre.

"Name, sheriff, of your counterpart in... ah, Haim. And I'll get outta your hair, how's that sound?"

Eddie could hear him grind his teeth together, but you didn't get to where Eddie was in life - broke, homeless, dumped by the prettiest girl in Cali - being nice to people.

"Drake," Townsend finally snapped. His palms were both flat on the table. Pinned. There was a subtle tremor working through his fingers. Eddie scratched out fear, and replaced it with terrified. "The sheriff's name is Carlton Drake."

*

*

_A phone rang in the Haim stationhouse. It was picked up halfway through the first ring by a tall, thin woman in her early fifties, dreads scraped back into a neat bun and a pleasant smile when she spoke._

_"Haim Police Department," she greeted politely. "This is Andy speaking. How may I help you?"_

_"Hey, Andy, it's Townsend."_

_"Sheriff. Always good to hear from you."_

_"Yeah, right. Listen, Andy, you ran into those feds last week, right?"_

_"Sure did, hoss."_

_"What happened there? They still in town?"_

_"Nah... They couldn't get a lead on their missing hikers, so they left. Pretty cut-and-dry, Sheriff. "_

_"You sure about that?"_

_"Saw 'em off myself."_

_"Huh."_

_"What's wrong?"_

_"It's the Bureau. They've sent another agent. A... I didn't catch his first name, actually. Special Agent Young, from the 'Frisco office. Younger guy, workin' alone."_

_"Another agent."_

_"He's headed your way right now."_

_"I'll let Sheriff Drake know. Thanks for informing us. We'll be in touch."_

_"Right, right, just remember your end of the deal - my town stays the hell outta your-- sonofabitch, did you hang up on me?!"_

*

Of course it wasn't just one missing persons case Eddie was working - or that 'Plant and Page' had been apparently working before they got their dumb asses disappeared. It was seventeen.

They'd been dropping like flies in a rough,, straggling circle for months now, trekkers and hitchhikers and vagabonds, truckers and high school kids and men on business trips just passing through. There was no pattern to suggest human involvement - serial killers, or human traffickers, or any of the filth that Eddie left for the real police to deal with.

Now, though, Eddie was pretty sure he'd found the center of the circle. Ground Zero.

Haim.  
Population: 2,843 and proud!

Eddie rolled his eyes at the sign, and tapped the gas a little harder, roaring into town on a flurry of smoke and burning autumn leaves. Time to find out what the hell was really going on.

*

*

_A patrol car in a speed trap off Route 80 radioed the base at Haim._

_"Unit 7 here."_

_"Come in, Unit 7."_

_"He's here. Tell the sheriff."_

*

*

_**Haim, CA** _

Haim was like every highway town he'd ever seen in California - small, sunny, a little worn around the edges. It was going past 5, the sun low on the horizon, and people were spilling onto the pavement, loud families and sullen teenagers, AARP members and young men in what looked like some kind of factory uniform - blue overalls with a logo stamped over the breast pocket - and Eddie followed most of the crowd into an enormous diner on the northern edge of the town, a massive converted loft, _Drake's_ glaring in bright, neon letters over the huge, glass-paned doors.

He pulled up a seat at the bar, beside one of the overall guys - the logo read _Drake Industries,_ because of course it did, Jesus _Christ_ \- and waited until a waitress caught his eye, flashing her a quick, friendly smile. She held up a finger and poured the fellow beside him a fresh cup of coffee. Her nametag said 'Dora.'

"Didn't see you at the plant today morning," he was saying, and Dora sighed.

"Had to cover Louise's shift," she replied. "Pregnant again, poor thing. I'll be in tomorrow for a double, though."

"Damn. That's rough."

Dora shrugged, with a philosophical, "Life, you know," before she sidled up to Eddie, with a bright grin and a tacky, laminated menu card. "Hiya! What can I get you?"

Eddie scanned the menu card for her sake, and then said, "Coffee first. What's good 'round here?"

"Oh, everything is. You're new in town, huh?"

He nodded, grinned sheepishly. "That obvious?"

Dora's smile turned a little less plastic, a little more warm. "Cheeseburger sound good?"

"Sure does. Extra cheese, hold the onion."

Dora called out his order through to the kitchen, and turned back with a pleasant smile. The crowd was growing around them, but she didn't seem in any rush to move on. "Whatcha doin' in Haim them?"

"Looking for a friend."

Her eyebrow quirked up. "Metaphorically?"

Eddie huffed a laugh. "He might've come through here, a couple days ago. Might've been with another guy." Eddie couldn't give her a name, not without knowing what aliases those two idiots had used. For guys constantly on the run from the _actual_ FBI, Sam and Dean just called themselves Sam and Dean, nine times outta ten. _Idiots._ "Tall, blond, green eyes. Mid-thirties."

Dora's eyes went a little big. " _Ohhh_ ," she said, in That Voice. All girls - and some guys - used that voice, when they talked about the brothers. Frankly, Eddie was sick of it. "You mean the FBI agents. Sam'n'Dean. Are _you_ a Fed?"

"Sure am. You seen those two around here?"

"Uh-huh. Grabbed dinner here two nights ago." A cheeseburger appeared at the kitchen till, and Dora grabbed it, passed it over. Re-filled his coffee. "Haven't seen 'em since- oh, hey Sheriff!"

A thin, short man swung into the barstool beside Eddie's, taking off his hat and placing it carefully on the bar. He didn't look like a cop. He looked like a history professor. _Sheriff Carlton Drake._ The position was usually an elected one in these towns, and Eddie was betting this guy had run uncontested, and won by a landslide.

_Sheriff Drake. Drake's Diner. Drake Industries._  
_Drake, Drake, Drake._  
The name cropped up like this town had Tourette's.

_Drake_ nodded at her. "Dora. Hello."

"The usual?"

"You know it." His eyes flickered over to Eddie, and stayed there.

"Sheriff," Eddie said politely. He tapped lightly at the edge of his plate, catching Dora's eye. "Dora, sorry, can I get this to go?"

"You sure, honey? Bun could get a little soggy."

Eddie shrugged. "I'll take the risk. Hey, looks like I'll be staying the night.

Any good motels in the area?"

"There's the Bluebrush Ranch just ten minutes on. Good, and cheap." _Ouch._ She scribbled something on a paper towel, folded it up and reached over, tucking it in his jacket pocket. "There. Directions to the motel."

Her eyes met his, and for a second, so quick Eddie wondered later if he'd just imagined it, her eyes turned cold, deeply intent. "Drive safe. These roads get confusing, in the dark."

Eddie blinked, and the moment was gone, Dora bustling away into the dinner crowd, laminated menus tucked under her arm, a customer service smile firmly in place. He turned to the man beside him. "Hey. I don't know if Sheriff Townsend gave you a call," _I absolutely know he did, motherfucker,_ "but I'm here on behalf of the Bureau, regarding the last missing persons' report in Bluebrush."

Drake did a credible impression of someone surprised. "Oh. And you are...?"

"Right! Sorry." An apologetic grin. _Haha, I'm so absentminded._ "Special Agent Young." He stuck out a hand, and Drake took it. "SF Office. You might've spoken to my colleagues, earlier...?"

"Agents Plant and Page, yes. They've left, though."

"Have they."

"Last night. They didn't find anything of interest, so..." He shrugged. Another waitress put an enormous plate of Cobb salad in front of him, and Drake dug in.

"And where did they look?"

Drake looked up from his salad, a little irritated. Eddie bet that was enough, in this town, to get people to back off and bend over and basically shut up. But Eddie wasn't from this town, and Drake made the back of his neck prickle and itch and _burn._ "What?"

"Where did Agents Plant and Page look?"

"Shouldn't _you_ know that? Being their colleague?"

"I'm asking _you_ , though, Sheriff. Are you saying you don't?"

Drake narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I like your tone, Agent."

"I don't think I like your town, Sheriff, but you don't see me holding that against you."

There was a harsh, tense pause, while they watched each other, jaws tight, cold, unblinking. Drake broke first. _Pussy._ "They spoke to the Rangers. Visited some of the locals. Toured the plant. That's about all I know." _Yeah **right,** that's all you know, my ass._

"The plant? Drake Industries?"

"Yes. A brief visit. It's close to Bluebrush."

"I see."

"I'm sure you do. You'd like a tour of the plant too, I suppose?" Drake gritted out. Of course he could arrange a tour. He probably owned the place.

"Nah," Eddie replied lightly. "If they didn't find anything, I doubt I will." _If you're gonna be on my ass the whole time, that is._ "I'll head out back to the city tomorrow morning, then." _Look, here's my itinerary. Here's what I'm planning to do. No lies, no secrets. I'm boring. So fucking boring. Don't bother about me._ "Nice meetin' ya, chief."

Eddie tucked a few bills under the coffee cup, and grabbed the go-bag before he could hear Drake reply, setting a pace that was quick, but not conspicuous. On reflex, he tried all of Sam's numbers. All of Dean's. Let it go four rings before hanging up. No answers. _Walk slow, walk slow, don't attract more attention._

When he got to his car, he tossed the bag carelessly in the passenger side seat, and locked the door, and gripped the steering wheel, and finally- finally, _breathed._

Someone had informed the Sheriff where Eddie was.  
Someone was likely keeping an eye on him right now.  
Someone would very probably follow him to the motel, and tell _Drake_ which room he was staying in.

It wasn't paranoia if they were really out to get you.

Eddie pulled the seatbelt over his chest, over his racing, pounding, _screaming_ heart, and heard something crinkle in his pocket. Right, Dora's instructions. He fished out the paper with shaky fingers, and unfolded it carefully.

But Dora hadn't written directions to the motel.  
In fact, she hadn't written much of anything at all -- just two words, in thick, black Sharpie, underlined half a dozen times, the ink bleeding into the paper like an open wound.

 

####  _GET OUT._

**Author's Note:**

> title from that supernatural episode, who took it from that sesame street book, which will never not be hilarious to me.  
> [rebloggable on tumblr here!](https://ao3feed-symbrock.tumblr.com/post/179277714873/the-monster-at-the-end-of-this-story)  
> thanks for reading. remember to subscribe for updates, and hit kudos if you liked it! <3


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